


one day at a time.

by epherians



Series: Writer's Month 2019 [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 1970s Era Queen (Band), Brian Needs a Hug, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, For a Friend, Gen, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Inspired by Fanfiction, Prompt Fic, Recovery, Relationship Study, Sad Brian May, Scrabble, Sick Brian May, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 08:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20739245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epherians/pseuds/epherians
Summary: The boys take care of Brian in the hospital. Based on a future scene forNo Weaknesses.Written for Writer's Month 2019, Day 2: hurt/comfort.





	one day at a time.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [No Weaknesses.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18817693) by [epherians](https://archiveofourown.org/users/epherians/pseuds/epherians). 

> Disclaimer: This is gratuitous sick!Brian comfort that I wrote independent of my fic. It might not be the most accurate description of a hospital in his time, but I just wanted to give Bri some love.
> 
> Background for my fic: Brian was hospitalized a second time in 1974 for a duodenal ulcer that required an operation. For a guitarist in the middle of recording an album _and_ who had just come down with hepatitis earlier that year, this turn of events must’ve been hard on him emotionally. Fortunately, he has brothers who won’t leave him alone.

_One day at a time._

They help him through every day and he doesn’t understand why.

Once, when they were all in the same room, he and his stomach made a grand spectacle of themselves and John managed to bring the nearest bucket in time for him to hurl his guts out. His throat was acidic burning and the stitches became just a little bit tighter and he felt so horrible—but Freddie was there rubbing his back and Roger dutifully fed him sips of water through a straw. Even if his stomach promptly rejected that too. They never left his side, even as the nurses came to help. He couldn’t understand why.

_One day at a time…_

“I come bearing presents!” Freddie announces as he brings up a literal “sleigh” of packages and presents for the lone patient in 39B. Brian thought if anything, John would get the most fanmail. He’s a bit stunned by the balloons, a large teddy holding an equally large red heart, or one look at the mailbag which is filled to the brim with cards and letters and messages of well-wishes.

“There’s a very special one right here!” Freddie teases as he fishes out a simple piece of paper. “Dear Brian,” he reads out, “I’m so relieved that you’re in recovery from surgery! That must’ve been dreadful to go through! I hope you and the other members of Queen are doing all right. Please get well soon, we really miss you and I hope to hear your beautiful music again, together with mine. Love, _Frederick._”

And Freddie looks up at him on behalf of the “little boy’s” letter, and Brian suddenly wonders why.

_One day at a time._

His arm feels bloated and full from the constant flow of the IV drip. The pain reminds him of things he doesn’t want to remember.

_One day at a time._

He doesn’t like walking, frankly speaking. If bed is going to be a prison, he’d like to enjoy staying in it.

“Come on now, you remember what the doctor said,” Roger reminds him as they step out. “Movement is important for your muscles and to keep blood clots from happening.”

_Yadayada, the biology graduate is talking again,_ Brian groans. He’s so sluggish, his long legs feeling like walking sticks. But at least a hospital gown is the most fashionable thing here, next to scrubs.

“You’re doing great, Bri, just follow my pace…” And of course, it would be apt for the drummer to have a constant rhythm and beat as he’s walking. Even if it’s a lot slower than Rog is known to like.

“There! We’re back already! Good job, Bri, we’ll do this again when you’re feeling a little more upright,” Roger tells him with a cheerful smile. Brian doesn’t understand why.

_One day at a time…_

(The passing siren of an ambulance wakes him briefly, and as his eyes open in darkness, the blinding flash of blue and red dart past, and for a moment he’s scared.

Scared and helpless.

He doesn’t like being alone with thoughts like these.)

_One day at a time…_

He’s on the ulcer recovery diet, which is not as thrilling as it looks on the tray but it’s barely just barely what he can handle. Brian’s liaisons with his stomach acid have rendered him cautious of anything he needs to eat or drink to give his stomach something.

John keeps him company through his slow mealtimes, though the takeaway cheese on toast he keeps bringing up from the hospital canteen is doing wonders for his case. Brian would just like to keep his lunch and eat it too, but even the smallest spoonful of _goop_ is so hard to take…

“Just eat slowly, all right?” John is by his side with those concerned puppy dog eyes. “Don’t force yourself to finish everything, if that’s not what your stomach wants.”

“I don’t think I know what my stomach wants anymore, Deacy…” Brian groans.

“It needs rest. Certainly it doesn’t want to have a perforated ulcer again…” (John looks down, belatedly realizing that was a ‘too soon’ remark.) “But more than anything, it needs sustenance to take in and digest. It’s like the cogs of a machine that need starting up before it can go into full gear…or something like that?”

_Oh, Deacy, never change who you are,_ Brian thinks with a small smile as he manages a spoonful. And he doesn’t wonder why.

_One night at a time… zzzz…_

(When it’s Freddie’s turn to stay overnight with Brian, he complains about the long chair and footrest provided for the overnight guest, saying it’s hardly an adequate place to sleep in.

But later in the night, when Brian wakes up (because he’s in a hospital bed, he ALWAYS wakes up), he finds that Freddie has no problem with the long chair after all, seeing as how he curled into the shape accordingly and was asleep like a doll.)

_…One tile at a time._

Initially, Brian wasn’t up for playing Scrabble on his bed tray. The usual fiery streak just wasn’t in him, and the furrowed concentration on the letter tiles only seemed to make his stitches tighten. (Plus, although it was a pathetic reason to begin with, he didn’t like to lose when he was already at his lowest.)

But this time, he seems to have been given a lucky deck, and the familiar act of putting tiles returns like the smile that’s been on his face more and more.

It’s the usual reactions that ensue when Brian plays a winning word: a loud WHAT from Roger, insinuations from Freddie that can’t be a legit word, while John quietly pipes up after completing the calculations and dictionary check: Brian’s word wins him the game.

He laughs.

Not a chuckle, or a smirk, or a kiss-to-the-cheek giggle, but a loud burst of hilariousness that guffaws deep from his belly and throat.

And oh shit, the reaction is TERRIBLE on his stitches. But he doesn’t want to care why, he just wants to laugh in spite of the pain and enjoy the relief he hasn’t felt in what seemed like ages.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, [Lydia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydianNode), for letting me write this fic in your Tumblr messaging box. ❤️


End file.
